A Bullet Full of Estrogen.

“Antoinette you must pick up your room before your great uncle arrives!” my mother shouted in French from the living room.
“But Adrien doesn’t have to! He’s off being all holy!” I shouted back in English, too lazy to reply en français.
“Exactement. He is being holy. Now, don’t give me any more smart mouth or you’ll be picking up Adrien’s room too ma cherie” she snapped, coming up to me in the kitchen, her face stern, but her voice light.
“Oui maman” I sighed slumping my shoulders forward exaggeratingly, making her smirk.
“Oh Antoine what shall I do with you?!” my mother called after me as I bounded upstairs and slid into my room. I slid my Elvis Presley CD into my boom box and skipped to my favorite track. I grabbed the broom that was resting in the corner of my room and proceeded to clean while jamming out to the ring on my broom turned microphone.
Lord Almighty I feel my temperature rising
Higher and higher
It’s burning through to my soul
Girl, girl, girl you gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
And I don’t know which way to go.
This song never ceased to bring a smile to my face. While my classmates delved into the pop phenomena of Ke$ha and Puff Daddy, P. Diddy…Diddy…whatever, I listened to the King. I mean, some current stuff was good…but seriously, who puts a dollar sign in their name? I swept around my creaky old wooden floor, even under my rug, all while rocking out.
Your kisses lift me higher
Like a sweet song of the fire
You light my morning sky
With burning love
In the middle of my sashay, I felt two hands pinch my waist, causing me to scream out. I jumped around, holding my broom out like a spear, prepared to strike. I stood down; rolling my eyes, when I saw it was just my brother, Adrien, his hands in the air in place of a white flag, that wide, unmistakable grin covering his face.
“Hey Antoine”
Adrien was my twin brother. He was honestly and truly a good-natured person. You would be a complete asshole to be mean to him. So I guess that makes me a complete asshole. It’s not like I straight up hated him. It‘s just kind of infuriating to have someone showing you up all the time. Like if I make second honors, then Adrien will have made first honors. If I join the newspaper, then he’s editor-in-chief…which he is by the way. He’s the president of the junior class, captain of the varsity lacrosse team, and boasts a 4.0 GPA. He’s also one of the youngest Eagle Scouts…ever. For any normal person, all of that honor and prestige would get to their head. But no, not for Adrien. He holds doors open for girls, is nice to the weird kids at school, and never complains about anything.
“Hey yourself, what are you doing sneaking up on me like that?!” I shrieked, throwing my broom down, more embarrassed than afraid.
“Well…youth group got out early so I was wondering if you’d wanna go for a run, maybe you could sweat out some of the issues that have been making you so cranky” Adrien smirked, pinching my cheek.
“Fuck off” I growled in French, slapping his hand away from my face.
“This is what I’m talking about Antoinette, why are you so angry?” he asked, genuinely concerned. No matter how much I tried to have a normal dysfunctional relationship with my brother, he always insisted on caring about me and wanting to hang out.
“Mom won’t let me go to the art thing tonight because Uncle Robert is coming,” I sighed, reaching down and picking up my broom.
“It’s not every day Uncle Robert decides to hop on a plane and endure the thirteen hour flight just to visit us, so it must be something important,” he said, following me out of my room and downstairs into the kitchen.
“I don’t care, for once I would like to get out of this place, I mean, how come you always get to go out while I’m stuck at the café?” I asked, throwing the broom back in the closet.
Adrien gave me a contemplating look, thinking up some lie to tell me so he wouldn’t have to say, “It’s because I actually have friends.”
“C’mon, say it, you’re extremely popular and I’m just a loser,” I muttered.
Not being able to think of anything, he sighed exasperatedly and said, “People are afraid of you, Antoinette, especially since you started going out with Sean,” he frowned at the name.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, hands on hips.
Adrien pursed his lips, “Nothing, as long as you’re happy,” his lips broke into a smile and he gave me a hug. I froze up and patted his back awkwardly, hoping he’d get the hint.
A few hours later I was setting the table for dinner while mom drove to the airport to pick up Uncle Robert from the airport. Adrien was in the kitchen finishing the spinach soufflé, acting like an asshole, as usual.
“Antoinette, come in here,” I heard him call from the kitchen.
“What?!” I exclaimed, storming into the kitchen.
“Shh! Be quiet or it’s going to deflate,” Adrien warned, his voice down to a whisper. He acted as if we were the bomb squad or something.
“This is ridiculous…” I muttered, standing there with my arms crossed and lips pursed while he put on his oven mitt and opened the door as the mere creaking of oven door opening would cause his beloved soufflé to pop. He took out, slowly and carefully, lifting it would of the oven as a mother would lift her child out of their crib. Right then, I had the most excruciating urge to let out a scream and let all of the air out of the soufflé. I had to stop myself though. I wasn’t that terrible. Still, I wondered how Adrien would react. I cannot recall a time where he was ever mad at me. Maybe it would be best if I kept it that way.
“Hello, Uncle Robert,” Adrien and I said in unison as he walked through the door, his mahogany cane supporting him.
“May I take your coat, sir?” Adrien offered him. Uncle Robert was the head of the family, had been ever since our grandfather died since before we were born. He was our mother’s eldest brother and probably the most intimidating person I knew. Standing at around 6’5, he towered above the rest of us with his nearly balding head and pale eyes.
“If you must,” Uncle Robert said in his deep growl of a voice. I had always thought the French language was beautiful, but he made it sound frightening.
My mother walked in, looking somewhat flustered. She met my eyes for only a second, and then hurried into the dining room. Adrien noticed this and gave me a questioning look as he put Uncle Robert’s coat in the closet.
“And you,” Uncle Robert said, addressing me, “How are your etiquette classes going?”
I froze. I could hear Adrien stifle a laugh as he walked past me. I had gone to one etiquette class…and got myself kicked out on account of the fact that Susanne Fields couldn’t seem to keep her nasty comments about the way I dressed to herself.
“They’re going great. I’ve learned a lot,” I lied through my teeth, making sure to stand tall.
“Good,” he said, seeming to accept my lie as truth. I smiled to myself and led him into the dining room.
The beginning of the dinner was silent with prompts from mom inserted here and there such as, “Tell Uncle Robert about soccer, Adrien,” or “Tell Uncle Robert about the art club, Antoinette,[i/]” but there always seemed to be something bigger weighing on her mind.
In the middle of Adrien bringing out his pride and joy, the spinach soufflé, the real bomb was dropped.
“I can’t keep this act going any longer, Marianne, we are going to tell her tonight,” Uncle Robert said, putting down his cutlery. My mother also set her knife and fork down and sat back in her chair, her face set.
I gave Adrien a questioning look to which he shrugged. I felt my heart skip a beat when Uncle Robert turned to face me, his blue eyes scrutinizing.
“Antoinette, it has come to my attention that you have no desire to follow the path that has been set for you and it seems like this act of rebellion has been happening ever since you have been living in Louisiana, so it is my request that you go and live with your Aunt Bernadette for six weeks during the summer which could lead to your permanent residence there, depending on your behavior.”
I heard a low sizzling sound. The soufflé had just deflated. I heard Adrien draw in a sharp intake of breath. Uncle Robert had to be joking. The only thing was, Uncle Robert never joked or even laughed at jokes.
“Please excuse me,” I muttered before leaving my seat and running upstairs, trying to hold my tears in before I jumped on my bed.
“Can I come in?” I heard Adrien say from the doorway.
“Do whatever you want, I could care less,” I mumbled through my tears.
“It’s going to be fine, Antoine,” he soothed, sitting down next to where I lay on the bed, only making me bury my face deeper into my pillow.
“No it’s not, Adrien, you’re not the one who has to go back to fucking France,” I growled.
“You’re not gonna have to go back there, I’ll make sure of it,” he whispered, rubbing my back, “Just trust me on this one.”
“How the hell are you going to do that?!” I exclaimed, sitting up to face Adrien finally, his face entirely serious, “Once Uncle Robert wants something done, it gets done.”
“Like I said, just trust me,” he said, his hands on my shoulders.